


We Are Maskless

by linzackles



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 3x03 AU, Bellamy stays, Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linzackles/pseuds/linzackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3x03: She can't leave, but she asks him to stay. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Maskless

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) I posted this on Tumblr but because of the length of it I decided to put it up here, too. I'm relatively new to the fandom so I hope you like – it’s just what I would’ve rather had happen in this episode.

Her mom began to walk away. Immediately she met Bellamy’s eyes.

Just like always, she saw all her own emotions mirrored there. Except this time there was something more, some extra despair she couldn’t discern.

He came towards her, his eyes already pleading.

“She left us to die on that mountain. She will always put her people first.”

She knew that.

It was all she kept thinking of.

“You should come home to yours.”

But she couldn’t, why couldn’t he understand that? It wasn’t that simple.

His eyes were so full of emotion, though, she barely knew what to say in response.

“I'm sorry,” she decided on.

She was. For everything he'd done to get here, to her, for the second time now. For how he would think Mount Weather was his fault because he'd been here instead of there – just like she did. For how she couldn’t explain her actions.

He nodded slowly, hurt, and he was stepping away when she was struck by an idea. Desperately she grasped onto it.

“Bellamy.” His eyes snapped back to hers. “Stay.”

“What?” he frowned.

She knew it was selfish. She knew that he wanted to go back to their people just like he wanted her to go back and she knew that her mother and Kane would need him. But she needed him too.

“As my advisor,” she improvised.

He looked away uncertainly as Lexa moved towards them.

“Clarke, that’s not necessary. Your people will need him.”

“I want him to stay,” she refused, still holding Bellamy’s eyes.

“The War Council,” Titus reminded.

“Clarke,” Lexa pressed and the blonde gritted her teeth.

Bellamy still hadn't said anything and she let out a breath. He met her eyes and she forced all her need into them before breaking the gaze, walking off as Lexa followed.

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa took her offered hand and rose.

She didn’t know what Lexa saw on her face – all she felt inside herself was turmoil.

She _wanted_ to trust Lexa because it would make everything so much easier. And it seemed so simple – Lexa was good at saying all the right things.

But not a single cell in her body would allow it. Each one still remembered standing outside Mount Weather, entirely abandoned by this woman who claimed to know her and care for her.

“Why did you ask Bellamy to stay?”

Clarke bristled, letting go of the other woman’s hand.

“I need an advisor.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes.

“You don’t need him, Clarke. Together we’ll avenge your people; we’ll make the decisions that are best for our people.”

 _Our people_ – could she really believe that Lexa would treat her people as her own?

“The last time we made a decision together, a village burned to the ground, Lexa.”

The other woman flinched but her expression immediately smoothed out.

Lexa was an expert at that, Clarke had learned. She’d tried it, too, but then decided she didn’t mind her emotions being legible. Lexa’s was a mask so much of the time and she found it disconcerting. Intriguing, yes, but disconcerting all the same. And, she’d learned the hard way, untrustworthy.

Clarke didn’t mind being like Bellamy – Bellamy, whose every emotion was so intense that it showed up in his eyes full force and between every line on his face. You knew when he was angry, you knew when he was excited and, it happened so rarely but, she knew when he was happy.

She remembered having a gag in her mouth and him showing up from seemingly nowhere. Despite knowing that Roan had been waiting in the shadows, she’d found herself wearing utter unmasked joy at just his presence. And there, on his face, she’d seen it reflected back at her.

He was her mirror in more ways than one and that’s why she needed him here, to keep her from letting Lexa influence her again. Earlier Lexa had apologised for what she’d turned her into and it was true – with Lexa it was so hard to remain herself.

She was leaving when Lexa finally replied.

“And when you last made a decision with him, it ended with you slaying the mountain.”

She paused for only a second. It was Lexa’s trump card, clearly, but it didn’t mean what she thought it did.

Yes, the guilt ate at her for what her, Monty and Bellamy had done that day. But even now she saw no other way out; no other choice she could’ve made. So she couldn’t regret it the way she’d regretted Tondc since the moment she’d started running with Lexa.

And there was another thing the Commander had forgotten in playing her trump card.

Unlike her, Bellamy had never abandoned her.

* * *

 

Her guards opened the door to her bedroom and Clarke almost collapsed in relief.

“You stayed.”

Bellamy’s jaw was clenched. “For now.”

She looked to her guards.

“Leave us.”

“Lexa’s orders –” one started.

“I _said_ leave us. I'm more than safe with Bellamy.”

They hesitated but then retreated, closing the doors behind them.

A breath rushed from her lungs as she finally let herself relax for the first time that day; be herself. Wanheda was an exhausting act.

Then her feet swiftly carried her to Bellamy.

“Are you ok? How’s your leg? I should look at it.”

He looked bewildered, likely by her radical change in countenance, then slowly shook his head.

“Your mom did. It’s fine.”

She nodded jerkily. That made sense.

“I'm so glad you're ok.”

She wanted to touch him just to make sure it was real but she knew that was stupid.

It was just that she’d spent a week wondering whether he had been able to walk and make it all the way back to Camp Jaha. She’d had so many anxiety attacks at the prospect of him having bled out that she’d had to force herself to stop thinking about it.

But now he was here – real, alive and ok.

And glaring.

“Tell me why we’re trusting _Lexa_.”

She took a moment to register that he was talking about politics before she shook her head.

“We’re not. Bellamy, I promise, I _don’t_ trust her. But we need her.”

“Why?” he growled out, his voice deep as always.

“Because before you burst in she initiated us as the thirteenth clan. We’re part of the Coalition now. Her army is our army; we _are_ her army.”

His eyes widened.

“…So the Ice Queen won't be able to get you?”

Her heart warmed at that being his first thought.

“No. We have the power of twelve clans against Azgeda.”

He let out a long breath of surprise and she noted with worry that he was beginning to wobble.

“Sit down.”

He looked about to wave away the suggestion then thought better of it.

“You're sure I can't look at that?” she frowned worriedly.

He glared and she almost smiled a little as he sat on the edge of the bed. She hesitated then went to sit beside him. He looked at her uncertainly.

“You say you don’t trust Lexa. But you went off with her instead of coming home with me.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I have to stay, Bellamy – _because_ I don’t trust her.” She met his eyes. “She just made a promise to me that she will treat our people as if they're hers. But I don’t believe her. You said it yourself: she will _always_ put her people first.”

He stared. “I didn’t realise you were listening.”

She tried not to let it show how much that hurt. But, just like him, she was bad at wearing a mask. It was a good thing she’d practised at the Wanheda one; perfected it for his safety.

“I'm sorry about earlier. But I'm scared of Roan seeing me showing any more weakness. I don’t trust him, either.”

“Who?”

“The guy who attacked you when you… came after me.”

“The one who put a sword to my throat?”

She nodded, trying not to let that memory invade.

Bellamy was alive, that was what mattered.

And she had to keep him that way. So she’d acted cold, worn her Wanheda mask, in the hopes that Roan wouldn’t think Bellamy was a particular weakness of hers. She was still just getting used to the truth of that herself.

She cleared her throat.

“He's the prince of Azgeda.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened again. “You're telling me Lexa sent the Ice Queen’s _son_ to get you? What if he'd turned on her and handed you over to his mother?”

What if he'd killed Bellamy?

She let out a breath then spoke with a steely tone.

“Like I said, I don’t trust her.”

Surprise and then relief flooded his face as it finally seemed to sink in that she was telling the truth.

She almost smiled.

No, he had no mask. No, he wasn’t Lexa.

Moving closer, she kept eye contact. “We may be the thirteenth clan but those aren't Lexa’s people. They're ours, Bellamy. We need to look after them together, just like always. And that’s why I need you here.”

He seemed dumbfounded as he stared solidly at her. She knew he wasn’t used to this much heartfelt honesty from her. But it was like when he'd wanted to leave before the Ark came down all over again. She still needed him.

Finally he swallowed and blinked, nodding slowly as he looked away.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.” Thoughtfully she looked down at her lap. “I should also be thanking you for trying to save me.”

“No, don’t,” he said quickly, his tone regretful. “I _didn’t_ save you. I don’t save anyone, anymore.”

She looked up quickly.

“Mount Weather wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve known,” he shook his head.

Again she noted that indiscernible sorrow in his eyes and, noticing her staring, he sighed.

“There's something you don’t know, Clarke. There was someone in Mount Weather…”

He trailed off, looking pained, and she touched his arm.

“What?” she pressed, intent to hear what was causing him this much hurt.

He looked down at her hand then up at her wide eyes.

Eventually, with a long exhale, he shook his head.

“It’s been a long day. I should let you get some sleep.”

Her first instinct was to refuse and make him tell her, but she fought it off. The wound was still too new. Whatever it was, he clearly needed time with it.

“Very long,” she agreed.

He nodded solemnly and stood.

He was halfway to the door when she spoke again.

“Bellamy.” He turned. “Promise you'll tell me tomorrow?”

He was still troubled, she could tell, but he managed a smirk.

“If I'm _allowed_ to see you.”

She let herself laugh a little. “You're my official advisor, remember? You'll be at my right hand side.”

He smiled too and she marvelled before looking away.

The thing about the intensity of his expressions was that each one was so powerful; his smile almost _too_ affecting.

“Goodnight, _Wanheda_.”

She frowned, her neck snapping up so she could immediately tell him never to call her that again. But, seeing the mocking written all over his face, she broke into an involuntary mirroring smile.

He knew just how much that title bothered her; just how much she didn’t want it or deserve it.

They'd shared that burden, but the title had been forced on her, and she didn’t have to tell him how much she hated it – hated the daily reminder of what they'd done. Everyone else hailed her for it. He understood the awful gravity of what they'd done. And he knew it all because he felt it too.

They stared at each other for a few long moments, communicating through their eyes just as they always had, with that inherent understanding they shared.

She’d sent him away once and she’d walked away from him once.

But this time they were getting through it together.

**Author's Note:**

> I take prompts over on my tumblr @mrslackles, please let me know if you liked it :)


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